


Final Hour's Approach

by Sera_The_Dragon



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Demons, Don't @ Me, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I mean what did you expect? It's just that one scene from Akira but with my AU instead, I'm just playing with ideas, Implied/Referenced Character Death, One Shot, Pain, Transformation, Why Did I Write This?, not really demons but kinda demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sera_The_Dragon/pseuds/Sera_The_Dragon
Summary: "Kris? Ralsei? Guys, can you hear me?""Yes, Alphys. What's happening?""Undyne… the Darkners… they’re all dead. And the sacrificial blade…""No.""Somebody destroyed the holding cells.""Who did this? Was it the ethereal we saw in Despair’s Plains?""Well, no. It-it wasn't the same ethereal we saw then. I… I actually don't know where they are now.""Wait. You mean there’s another?""Y-yes. They were wearing a green robe. And they weren't alone either… I saw them walking with a human and… I might be mistaken, but it looked like—"Inspired by a scene from the animated film Akira
Kudos: 5
Collections: Dreemurr's Tears and Darkner's Blood: An Undertale/Deltarune AU





	Final Hour's Approach

**Author's Note:**

> I'm literally just playing with ideas here. This probably won't end up being canon to the AU, but expect to see something kinda similar regardless.

Cheers began to ring out from the gathered crowd of ethereals as Creator headed towards their throne with Frisk in tow. The human could hardly walk, so Creator had to offer her support.

“So, how does it feel to have all of that power inside of you?”

Frisk took a deep breath to try and fight off the burning sensation in her chest. “Well,” she began, “it's really overwhelming... to be honest.”

Creator smiled at the fabled Dreamer’s response. Once the two reached the marvelous throne carved from precious gemstones, Creator gently sat Frisk down upon it. She winced as the burning feeling grew stronger in contact with the jeweled seat.

“Are you sure about all this?” she weakly asked Creator.

Displeased, Creator narrowed their eyes at Frisk. “You are not getting scared now, are you? I thought I could count on you.” They turned away slightly, still looking Frisk directly in the eyes. “Or are you doubting me?”

“No, I—” Frisk panicked, struggling to find the right words to say as the fiery pain continued to intensify and spread. “I would never doubt you… But this is… too…”

The pain within Frisk practically exploded into something a thousand times worse. Her grip on the armrests of the throne tightened as she struggled to hold back her agonized cries. The skin on her hand stretched taut until an oily black talon burst from within it, tearing its outer shell apart. Frisk screamed in pain as the beastly appendage buried its claws into the precious stone beneath her palms, making thin scratches into the otherwise flawless gems making up Creator’s throne.

Creator made no effort to aid the suffering human. “Ah,” was all they said before turning to face the crowd of ethereals and gesturing to Frisk. “My seeds,” they shouted, “the time has come for the Dreamer to once again take on their true form and lead us all to real freedom!” With that, Creator turned back to face Frisk and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Assimilation seems rather rough,” they said gently, pulling her cloak around to better expose her unchanged side and conceal the monstrous talon. Underneath the deep blue cloth, Frisk’s whole arm pulsed with terrible pain as her skin was shredded to make way for the fuzzy creature arm that was replacing it. “But it's not something you—”

“You have to stop this!”

Startled, both Creator and Frisk turned to the source of the voice. The crowd parted to reveal a fluffy white goat creature in a green robe. Frisk instantly recognized the figure as Ralsei.

“You…” The human could hardly believe that he’d come for her.

“Frisk… my friend.” Ralsei headed towards the center of the room, climbing up the stairs to come closer to his lost ally. “This isn't right.”

Still clutching the armrests of Creator’s throne, Frisk took a shuddering breath and did her best to lean forward off the back of the bejeweled chair. “With my power…” Her voice shook from the pain she was fighting off to even try and speak. “With my power, I can help these people!” Trembling weakly, Frisk grabbed her throbbing shoulder and groaned as the change continued.

Quickly, Ralsei opened a magic link with his friends. “Alphys,” he asked fearfully, “are you seeing this?”

From up on a nearby balcony, Alphys responded. “Yeah, Ralsei.” She tapped a few buttons on her watch until she pulled up a long-distance analyzer, and she promptly focused it on her human friend.

“How does it look?” Ralsei asked.

Alphys nearly froze when she saw what the analyzer reported; DT levels off the charts, erratic SOUL reactions corresponding to Frisk’s transformation, and some sort of magic-based organic material developing inside of her body. She shook her head and started to tell Ralsei what she found as best she could. “It-it looks like whatever they gave her is way too much for her body to handle. She won't be able to contain her rapidly increasing Determination. It could break loose any moment now! She’s in a very unstable condition!”

Ralsei nodded in understanding and closed the link. Slowly, he approached Frisk, who was now breathing even more heavily and hunched over in an attempt to ease some of the pain, until he was standing barely a few feet away from Creator’s shining throne. “Frisk,” he said, “you have to let me perform the spell. Your life is in danger!”

Frisk forced herself to sit against the back of the throne despite the searing pain that spread through her body like wildfire whenever she touched the gemstones that made it up. As she moved, the cloak draped around her body fell away from her changed arm, revealing what it had become. Her hand was now a clawed talon, and the entire arm was densely covered in short fur as black as ebony, slick and dark from being soaked in blood.

“And let all these people down?” Frisk asked, sounding a bit irritated. “Deny them their first chance at freedom for over a thousand years? I can’t do that to them! I made a promise, and I’m going to keep it! They shouldn’t have to suffer any longer!” As she spoke the last few words, three wooden blades were conjured in the air, and they all launched themselves at Ralsei with lightning speed. He protected himself from taking damage by wrapping himself in his scarf, but the force of the blow still knocked him backward and caused him to land on his back.

Doubled over once again, Frisk reached out to the shadowy form of Creator with her unchanged hand. “Creator,” she called weakly, and the ethereal monarch smiled. “Creator…”

Shaking from weakness, Frisk stood up from the throne and started walking towards Creator; the movement once again disturbed the cloak to reveal a furry, digitigrade leg ending in a bloody cloven hoof, on the same side of Frisk’s body as her beastly arm. “You'll help me fulfill my promise. Right?”

Creator opened their arms as if preparing for an embrace. “Yes, Dreamer,” they said with a smile. “And together, we will go free.”

Ralsei pushed himself off the ground into a sitting position, and the moment he saw what his friend was doing he started channeling all of his magical energy into his scarf.

“Frisk!”

He cried out as a bolt of magic lightning emerged from the end of his scarf and struck Frisk; the sheer power behind the blast was enough to send her flying to the edge of the stadium’s center. Her cloak wrapped itself around her as she tumbled across the floor, totally concealing her body. The crowd of ethereals gasped, and some gathered around the injured human, murmuring to one another about their hopes for her safety.

Creator turned to face Ralsei with a sinister look on their face. “I think you misunderstood, toothpaste boy.” They stepped back and took a seat on their throne.

Barely holding on to her consciousness, Frisk weakly pushed herself a few inches off the ground, coughing as blood spilled from her mouth and the left side of her body, where skin met slick wet fur. A sizable piece of flesh fell to the ground beside her shoulder. Creator laughed, delighted by the sight of Frisk’s horrid transformation. Ralsei and Alphys could only stare in petrified fear. 

Frisk tried to push herself further off the floor, but something burst from her shoulder and she fell back down, turned away from Ralsei. Grunting in pain, she let out a howl as a massive, folded-up skeletal wing unfurled and tightly gripped Ralsei, who also started screaming in fear.

Creator flashed a sinister smile at the terrified Darkner, then rushed to Frisk’s side. Now just barely standing up, she struggled to control the movement of her new appendage, crying out in pain as she finally managed to lift the gigantic wing. Her cloak shifted once again, revealing that her whole body, excluding her head and right arm, had been transformed into that of a horrible ethereal beast, right down to the seven arrow-headed tails extending from her spine. The dark fur started spreading visibly up her torso until it eventually reached her face, which immediately started to grow a thick muzzle with razor-sharp teeth. A devilish horn broke through the side of her head, and Frisk continued screaming in pain all the while.

Ralsei struggled against his bony confines, but the powerful muscles of the wing would not give. His vision started to fade as his breathing was inhibited by the tightening squeeze of the wing.

In the distance, the sound of some kind of contraption being fired echoed through the air, followed very quickly by the sound of a dagger piercing through the flesh of Frisk’s wing. Almost instantly, Ralsei was released, and the massive appendage shrank down to about the same size as the person it was attached to. A second wing slowly appeared on the other side of Frisk’s cloak as she turned around to see who attacked her, snarling and crying at the same time.

There, in the middle of the crowd of ethereals, was Susie holding a crossbow, Lancer carrying a bucket of daggers, and—

“ _Kris!_ ”


End file.
